Padfoot's Plan
by walliezinga
Summary: Typical L/J fic. Lily hates James, James loves Lily. Padfoot and his fellow Marauders hatch a plan to get Prongs the girl of his dreams. Please R&R, thanks.
1. Chapter 1

**Well, hi there!**

**I'm not new to FF, but I'm new to HP fanfic, sooo be kind please :P**

**I love LilyJames fic, but Sirius has to be one of my favourite fictional characters EVER. Actually the Marauders in general are absolutely amazing. Makes me proud to be British. xD**

**Anyways, Mischief Managed.**

**~Wallie**

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><p>I've never liked surprises. I ground myself in logic and facts, rather than the chaotic spontaneity of the unknown. I wasn't the kind of child who wished for a surprise party, or enjoyed practical jokes; The juvenile games never appealed to me. So you can imagine just how delighted I was when I discovered a fresh dung bomb lurking in my bed.<p>

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><p>A loud scream and a toxic, nauseating smell floated down the stairs of the girl's dormitory, shadowed closely by an irate Lily Evans. Her red hair resembled wild fire, and floated around her pale face with new found volume, presumably due to the minor explosion. Green eyes angrily searched the common room, sending small first-years reeling and recoiling in fear, and causing a horde of noisy third years to immediately quiet, recognising the situation. The arguments between Lily and a certain prankster were becoming somewhat of an infamous routine, breaking the monotony of a usual school day at Hogwarts. The fuming redhead turned her heated glare on a group of fourth years who had gathered to watch, and they cringed under her stare.<p>

"C'mon Evans, don't terrorise the villagers." James Potter, prankster extraordinaire, smirked at the short girl, causing her to whip around to face him, allowing the fourth years to make a hasty getaway through the portrait hole. She scowled at him, and he grimaced as the foul stench hit him full on. "Is that your noxious gas?" He enquired cheekily, overlooking how close the girl was to whipping out her wand and hexing him senseless.

James Potter liked to push the boundaries, especially when it came to his affectionately dubbed "carrot-top". However, the girl in question did not see it this way, and always responded to his words with a sharp glare and an even sharper tongue. He ruffled his messy hair, a habit that she had come to hate over the years: it was usually followed by an inappropriate declaration of love or a perverted invitation to the nearest broom closet. Before the scoundrel could so much as open his mouth, a lean boy emerged from the shadowed alcove near the portrait hole.

"Leave him be, Evans. That was _my_ welcome back to Hogwarts waiting in your bed." Sirius Black waltzed up beside his friend, grey eyes glinting in the warm firelight of the Gryffindor common room. He winked a lazy eye at the small redhead, and his friend elbowed him roughly. "Ow, Prongs." Sirius Black pouted his perfect lips, before flashing a crooked smile in Lily's direction. "You're just jealous, cause Flower missed me more than you." His teeth were pearly white and impeccably straight with sharp canines, a vivid contrast to his tanned skin. His smile sometimes reminded Lily of a panting dog, tongue lolling and all. Actually, Sirius Black's whole demeanour usually screamed 'puppy dog', with his playful attitude and unwavering loyalty.

"Guys, please don't bait Lily." Remus Lupin climbed delicately through the portrait hole, hugging a battered book to his chest. Peter Pettigrew hurried behind him, clambering clumsily through the entrance and catching the hem of his robes on his shoe. With a small squeal he fell into the wall and rebounded to the floor, a loud thump echoing through the room. His tumble went momentarily unnoticed by the other Gryffindors, however.

"Moooony." Sirius whined, his eyes bright with amusement. Remus shook his head and dutifully hauled Peter to his feet. "Thanks." The chubby boy feebly offered, and Lily threw him a cautiously sympathetic smile, before turning to leave, thrown from her previous rant, anger subdued.

"Hey, Evans?" James Potter dragged the girl's attention back to himself, eager for her interest. She saw his friends exchange amused glances, and shake their heads at the messy haired boy in warning. He ignored them however, and ruffled his hair, dishevelling it impossibly further. The rims of his thin glasses shone in the firelight, and the hazel orbs behind them were locked on Lily's own green ones. He found himself mesmerised by the intense sea of green, as he did every time he looked at her. This inevitably led to the abhorrent word-vomit that spewed from his mouth whenever she was in the vicinity. He noticed, with the eye of a skilled Quidditch player, the way her hair glowed a deep, vivid red in the light of the fire, and how the soft flame illuminated her pale skin, enhancing her high cheekbones and lightly scattered freckles. Green eyes searched his own inquisitively, and he internally winced at the annoyance and impatience he found clear in her expression. He kept his face frozen in a cocky mask, as if he was confident around this beautiful girl, and that he was sure of what he would say to her. His mouth opened, and before he could stop it, the same four words impulsively flooded out, as they always did when he lost control of his thoughts around her. "Go out with me?"

Her face showed no surprise, and if she was startled in any way by his question, she hid it well. Instead, anger flared up on her features, and he recoiled from her fiery glare. The other three boys watched on, anticipating the customary Lily-James screaming match. Remus usually observed the pair with an exasperated expression: he was not one for violence, and the threats, streaming from a usually impassive Lily's mouth, were in no way peaceful solutions. One that stood out in particular for the shy, sandy-haired boy was the favoured, "Potter, do you _want_ me to hang you by the balls off the astronomy tower?" To which James would reply with a cocky smirk and a public affirmation that Lily Evans wanted to touch his genitalia. Sirius watched his best friend's impending rejection, wishing he had thought to bring back popcorn from his kitchen quest.

He enjoyed the hilarity and the variety of Lily's responses to James' question, but he hated seeing how every answer crushed his friend. He imagined James' heart cracking a little more with every violent threat and spiteful glare, and wondered how much longer the organ could hold out under such duress.

Casting a careful look at his friend, who appeared at first aloof and confident, but behind his glasses hopeful and desperate, Sirius feared it wouldn't be much longer until James' heart was completely and utterly shattered by one Miss Lily Evans.

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><p><strong>Oooooh, Padfoot has a plan!<strong>

**Should I continue? I'm not sure if I like this so far. Hmm.**

**Please review, thanks (:**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi!**

**This story hasn't gotten many hits, but I'm accepting that the HP fanfic is mahoosive, so mine probably won't even register yet :P **

**Hopefully it will grow in popularity as I add to it (:**

**~Wallie**

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><p>"Moony."<p>

The sandy haired boy continued reading his battered library book, his amber eyes scanning the indecipherable runes imprinted on the page, or that's what it looked like to Sirius, anyway.

"Moooony."

The book was raised to block the bobbing black-haired boy from view.

"_Moooooooonnnyyyy."_

A pair of frustrated tawny eyes peered over the tattered tome, and a single eyebrow was raised in question.

Sirius continued bouncing at the foot of the majestic four poster bed, causing it to jump rhythmically and Remus' arms to jerk, making the book impossible to read.

Still, the werewolf was nothing but persistent, as he continued hiding behind the large volume.

"Remus."

The bouncing halted, and the book was lowered slightly. "Yes?" He enquired calmly.

"Oh, Remmy, I-"

The book was raised once again, effectively freezing the conversation. And so, the bouncing was renewed with extreme vigour, only this time with a slight difference.

"Remmyyy… Remmymuffin… Remmypoo."

'Remmy' was tempted to knock either himself or his fellow Marauder unconscious with the heavy book. Hefting the tome, he considered it; the thing rivalled a block of cement, although it did go against his strict moral code. Remus was concerned, not for his friend, but for the welfare of the book, unsure if it would be harmed in its battle against a wizard's face. Sirius was babbling again, convinced he had the other boy's attention, not noticing how Remus' gaze was repeatedly sliding from the book to Sirius and back again.

"Ow!"

Without really thinking, only desperate to stop the incoherent words streaming from Sirius' mouth, Remus had raised the weighty book and swung. He now watched impassively as the dark-haired boy howled and clutched his forehead.

"Moooonyyy, why?" He cried dramatically, holding a clenched fist to his heart. When the werewolf only stared calmly, he bent to retrieve the square weapon, hauling it onto his lap, and examining it critically. "Why not?" Remus replied, smirking, reaching to pull the book from Sirius' lap. He was not, however, expecting the other boy to cling onto it tightly, unwilling to release the battered book.

"Uhhmm, Sirius?" He ventured carefully, watching the boy scrutinize the old text, running his fingers warily over the words, as though they would spring from the page and snap at him. Sirius grunted in reply.

"Book." Remus told him mockingly, "B-O-O-K. You know, those things you claim to be allergic to?"

Sirius snorted, still observing the tome. "What's it about?" He asked, his voice instantly sounding like that of a small child, inquisitive.

"The title is _Most Potente Potions_, Sirius, what do you _think _it's about?" Remus chuckled, as Sirius stared at the foreign object.

"Ahh," Sirius nodded, stroking his chin, "So, dearest Moony, I have just one question for you." Remus grinned. For years, he had been encouraging his fellow Maruaders to ask any and all questions. "Shoot, Padfoot."

"What language is this?"

Solemnly, the boy fingered the text, looking at Remus curiously. He laughed, assuming his friend was joking, before pausing at the mixture of indignation and confusion clear on his features. "Oh." He paused. "Sirius, that's English."

The boy stopped dead, studying the words in silence. The minutes ticked by, and Remus was getting more impatient with every small shudder of the arm on his watch.

"Moony?" Sirius' voice was small, almost timid, totally out of character for the boisterous Marauder.

"Yes, Padfoot?"

"This isn't English." He told the sandy-haired boy vehemently. He shuffled closer, and held the book up at eye level, so that the words were clearly displayed to Remus.

"Yes, it is." Remus told him, voice tight, patience waning. All he wanted to do was grab his possession, close the hangings around his bed, and disappear into the world of his book, immersed in the scent of ink, musty pages and fresh knowledge.

"What the hell does," He froze, squinting at the page, "_nary_ mean?"

"It means 'none."

"Oh." He continued staring at the page, before slamming it shut suddenly and sharply, sending a wave of dust flying. Remus winced at the mistreatment of the book, and was about to protest, until the dust flew into his face, limiting him to coughs and narrowed eyes.

"Anyways, that's not why I came to talk to you, Moony, ol' pal."

"It isn't?" Remus asked wryly, pulling the book onto his lap, and stroking the binding reverently.

"Nope." Sirius popped the 'p', grinning widely, almost manically.

Remus waited silently for an elaboration, but his friend kept his lips tightly pressed together, the grin glued to his face.

"Well…?" He prompted, and Sirius bounced once more, folding his legs as he crossed them.

"Well." Sirius repeated, still grinning. He mimicked a drum roll, ending with a tap on Remus' head, which he attempted to duck, scowling lightly and swatting at Sirius' hand. "You don't wash those!" He protested, and Sirius waved him off.

"I have a theory." He disclosed to his friend, peeking around the deserted dormitory as though Peeves or the fifth member of the Gryffindor boys, Frank Longbottom, would suddenly pop out from under a bed or glide through the wall.

"About?" Remus asked, suspiciously. Sirius was renowned for his theories, usually far fetched and ridiculously imaginative or downright impossible, even in the magical realm. "It's a good one, Remmy, I swear." Sirius told him excitedly, stormy grey eyes gleaming.

He fought the urge to roll his eyes, and gestured for him to carry on speaking, hesitantly cranking open the large book on his lap, hoping Sirius wouldn't choose that moment to suddenly become observant.

Remus began stealthily reading the book, occasionally sneaking glances at Sirius' animated face to see whether he had caught on. He was getting into the healing properties of the Wiggenweld potion, a concoction that could wake people from magically-induced comas, when he heard something that jerked his attention from the fine print and detailed descriptions.

"Woah. Repeat that last bit?"

Sirius stopped, his jaw hanging loosely as he scrunched his eyebrows in thought. "The part about a Wrackspurt infiltrating Prongsie's brain?"

Remus cocked his head, "What? No."

"I don't blame you. That Xeno Lovegood is a weird one… Something off about those seventh year Hufflepuffs… Personally, I think it's our homemade dung bomb that did the damage. I mean-"

"Be serious for a minute, will you?"

"But Moony, I'm always-"

"Don't even say it Pads."

James Potter strode through the dormitory door, stopping to run his hand over the engraving in the wooden doorframe.

In third year, the four Marauders had chosen to mark this room as forever theirs, ignoring a bothered Frank, who claimed it was his dorm as much as theirs, and had etched '_Marauder's Room' _into the hard wood using Sirius' old pocket-knife. Since the Marauder's reputation had grown, along with the complexity of their pranks and the size of Sirius' stomach, their younger fans had been known to sneak up the stairs to touch the carving. Remus never understood the reasoning behind this, and personally found it rather disturbing, but James and Sirius revelled in it, enjoying their stints as Hogwarts celebrities.

Sirius turned as James came through the door. "Prongs! Thought you were at the kitchens, mate." He said with a hint of nervousness creeping through his cool and collected façade. James gave him an odd look, detecting the strange tone.

"I just came from there. I'm gonna head down to the Quidditch pitch," He nodded his head to the corner of the room, "I needed my broom." He moved his hand from the etching on the door to his hair, ruffling it as he ventured into the dorm, stepping over and evading the piles of dirty clothing and unidentified objects, most likely food from Sirius' kitchen adventures. "Okay." Sirius chirped brightly.

"You wanna come, Pads?" James offered, hauling his broom across his shoulder.

Sirius jumped, mind searching frantically for an excuse.

"Uhm, sorry mate, can't." He stammered, running his hand through his dark hair.

"It's a nice day." James attempted to sway him, throwing a small smile.

"Moony and I are reading." He told his friend nonchalantly, heaving the heavy book back onto his lap, grunting slightly from the effort, before offering James a bright grin. James stared at him, the gears in his brain grinding, as he watched his best friend hold a _book_. Voluntarily. The sight should have burned him.

"You don't read." He told his friend slowly, eyes widening behind his glasses, clearly questioning his sanity. Remus watched the interaction, with a hint of amusement.

"I decided to try something new." Sirius countered, flashing a nervous grin.

"Then… I don't know… Play leapfrog with unicorns, Padfoot!" James spoke, clearly confused by his friend's personality swap. "This isn't you." He frowned at his friend, contemplating whether someone had decided to give the Marauders a taste of their own prank medicine, and broken into Slughorn's stores of Polyjuice potion. He wouldn't put it past Lily Evans, or maybe a couple Slytherins. As he mused, his best friend, thumbed through the book carelessly, causing Remus to cringe and wince at the sight of the crumpled pages.

"Bye Prongs!" Sirius called merrily, dropping the book heavily onto Remus' lap, an 'ooof' emitting from the squashed boy. He leapt to his feet and swept James to the door, slamming it shut after beaming brightly at him.

He spun and rested deeply against the door, rubbing his temples as Remus watched him, mirth apparent in his features.

"I take it this theory is about James then?"

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><p><strong>*shakes head* This really wasn't my best.<strong>

**I'm on epic painkillers cos I had a gross accident, and got stitches on my tummy ): Blame them :P**

**Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

"You, Moony, are perceptive." This comment was punctuated with a playful ruffle of hair, causing the sandy haired boy to duck his head, scowling and pulling the book closer to his chest.

"And you, Padfoot, are annoying." He replied, ducking the sharp flick of fingers aimed at his forehead. "And you, Moony, are a git, also." The dark haired boy grinned widely at his friend, earning himself a withering glare. "But that's irrelevant." He winked and shuffled off the bed, hurrying to James' trunk on the other side of the room, hopping and jumping to avoid tripping over pieces of discarded clothing and other miscellaneous objects.

Remus slid the large book from his lap onto the polished bedside table, wondering what Sirius was planning. Remus was usually the engineer behind the famous Marauder pranks, Sirius the imagination, and James the mediator for the two. Peter usually acted as voyeur, sometimes proving useful as a look out. Together, they formed the Marauders, a group famous among Hogwarts students, teachers and ghosts alike for their stunts. To those who knew of them, they were loyal and courageous, traits typical of a standard Gryffindor, as well as fun, demonstrated by their wild parties. Those who knew them, well, there weren't many; people were either eager to become an honorary Marauder, never gaining the honour, or awed and slightly fearful of the bond between the four young men, scared to intrude on the delicately yet deeply woven friendships that had developed over the course of four years.

Remus was tugged from his thoughts by Sirius cursing loudly and tripping over the dangerous objects strewn across the floor. As the floor rose up to meet his face, he threw his arms in front of him, palms facing forward, his limbs shortening and stretching as he hit the floor safely, in the form of a shaggy black dog. Remus rose an eyebrow. "Really, Padfoot?" The dog barked loudly in affirmation and Remus hastily hushed him. "No dogs at Hogwarts." In one large bound, the gargantuan beast was astride him, tail wagging and wet tongue covering his face. Remus wriggled around, complaining and grunting as he tried to shift the beast.

Peter stumbled through the door, dropping a doughnut in surprise when he saw the two. Before he could recover his snack, the massive grim-like creature was on it, snapping it up and throwing Peter a wolfish grin. "P-Padfoot." He quivered, trying to sound angry, even petulant, but coming across differently. Morphing back, Sirius leapt to his feet. "Sorry Wormy, early bird catches the worm and all that." Clapping his friend on the back, he moved to the bed. "My apologies on the face-licking, mate." Remus responded only with a stony glare as he rubbed his cheek using the sleeve of his robe. "I get caught in the moment. My mind is a lot simpler as a dog's."

"It can get simpler?" James Potter smirked, strolling through the door with his broom under his arm and passing Peter a small bag of Honeydukes sweets. "Oh har-di-ha Prongs." Sirius grinned. James smiled. "I get you though, Pads. When I'm a stag," He paused, and his face became serene, "Everything is just so straightforward and effortless. Well," He cast a quick glance at Remus, "Sometimes, anyway."

"Yeah." Sirius agreed, grabbing a piece of fudge from Peter's bag of sweets. Ignoring his squeak of protest, he sprawled across his own mattress, but seeing the shadowed look on Remus' face, announced. "I always have the overwhelming desire to chew things as a dog."

"Same." Peter supplemented, his response slightly garbled as he chewed. Swallowing loudly, he continued, "Who knew rats liked to chew so much." James laughed as he sat down at the end of his bed, pulled his broom across his knees and began to clean it using his old and battered broom-servicing kit. The boys settled into a comfortable silence as Remus began to read again. The only sounds were the subtle squeak of oiled rag on smooth mahogany, the sharp rustle of a paper bag, loud smacking sounds as Peter chewed and occasionally, the crisp sound of a page turning.

"How was the flight?" Sirius offered to the ceiling.

"Didn't get much flying done." James grumbled. "Why, ol' Prongsie?" Sirius sat up. James sighed, but continued his ministrations on his broom. "Greasy Slytherins turned up halfway through, claiming they'd booked the pitch, but I'd checked before I went down there." He shrugged, anger flashing briefly in his eyes. Sirius furrowed his eyebrows and threw himself back down onto his mattress. "Shoulda called their bluff, mate."

"I was going to, but-" He stopped suddenly, his hand stilling. "But?" Sirius asked, his curiosity piqued.

Another sigh. "But nothing, Padfoot. Don't worry."

A pause. "This calls for a prank, right?"

"Did you doubt me for a second, Pads?"

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><p><strong>If anyone is reading this, please can they review or PM me? Might discontinue this. *shrugs*<strong>

**Anyway, Mischief Managed.**

**~Wallie**


	4. Chapter 4

**Most of you will probably hate this chapter. Oh well, please try and enjoy it. It focuses on Snape, who I'm not particularly fond of. This is providing some background so that you guys can better understand what will come in the next chapters. Mischief Managed.**

**~Wallie**

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><p>Sirius wondered, in hindsight, if perhaps filling the Slytherin common room with irritated doxies was the best way to execute revenge. Maybe, if he had foreseen the consequences, he would have paused to consider his actions, and all that would follow. That, in a furious desire for revenge, a certain Severus Snape would make it his personal endeavour to discover the secret of the Marauders. The group of boys kept many secrets, some better kept than others, but Severus knew that a friendship as binding as theirs could only come from experiencing the unexpected and astonishing. The complexity and sheer number of secrets and lies surrounding this group drove Severus to near despair; his challenge was to separate the ordinary from the extraordinary.<p>

This was a task more complicated than it first appeared, but one that he was willing to undertake, in order to bestow revenge upon the boys that drove a stake into his most precious friendship and hounded him, to the point where he grew bitter and dark, embracing the dark arts as an old friend. He relished in the solace of potion-making. Many hours were spent watching delicate spirals of steam as they curled seductively, dancing for him as the mixture bubbled and brewed, lapping persistently at the lips of the sable pewter cauldron, as though it could not contain the magic fastidiously crafted and fashioned by his careful hands. His lips twisted into macabre shapes as he whispered cruel words over his wand, words that could cause great men to fall to their knees and crimson lines to fly across skin, staining robes.

He enjoyed the power. Power was all that he craved, after years of falling prey to the vicious, relentless Marauders. His Hogwarts letter seemed a reprieve from a childhood of abuse, his father too afraid to do anything other than hate him. He was nothing more than a constant reminder of his mother's betrayal, and the magic that had smothered their relationship, binding him to her in a way that was dark and impure. It was never true love, tainted by falsities and illusions. How was little Severus Snape to know that the abuse had only just begun, and that he would have to endure years of taunting and pranks at the hands of those more fortunate than himself?

The Marauders were not all to blame though; Snape's bitterness and inexorable interest in the dark arts caused him to shy away from those his age, and they from him, mostly from fear of the unknown. Even with his own house he was not comfortable, surrounded by those of aristocratic heritage, Pureblood and unwilling to accept those who were otherwise. With his mismatched clothes and lack of hygiene, an ingrained habit that remained with him from his callous childhood, he was not popular amongst his peers. Instead of dealing with their snide remarks and loud boasts, he would often escape to the dark serenity of the dungeons or the vast expanse of the night sky from the Astronomy tower.

Sometimes, lying upon the dark bricks with the stars winking above, as though they were disclosing secrets to him, silently gossiping, he felt safer and more at home than he had ever been. Sometimes, lying among the stars, he felt that he could reach out and grab one, pulling it close and carrying it with him always, so that he would forever have company. He imagined floating away among the twinkling lights, soothing in their midnight dance. Sometimes, he thought of the Marauders and, how, if things had been different, if he had whispered a hasty plea to the Sorting hat, if he had stumbled upon their compartment rather than clumsy Peter Pettigrew, if it was him that had been born into a family with good intentions and the capability to love him, that they would have made rather good friends.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading (: I know it was pitifully short, but please review?<strong>


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